


With an Enemy Like This (Who Needs a Boyfriend?)

by NyxKeilantra413



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crossdressing, Foe Yay, Humor, M/M, also it might be creepy for some people?? idk man, but it's barely mentioned, i mean Keith wears a dress when Lotor kidnaps him, idk man Lotor has a crush on Keith and that's it, villainous crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 11:29:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxKeilantra413/pseuds/NyxKeilantra413
Summary: The Castle of Lions where Team Voltron resides, led by Princess Allura of Altea and her loyal advisor Coran, is said to be impenetrable.Supposed to be impenetrable.Yet two days without Keith appearing either as himself or the Red Paladin (having been wrestled into bed-rest by an unapologetically cheerful Coran after pulling off—for the nth time—an ill-advised and incredibly dangerous move that landed the Villain of the Week in jail and himself in the healing pod) sees the Castle penetrated anyway. Infiltrated. Invaded. Inundated with obviously super expensive and exotic bouquets, gourmet bouillon, high-end tisane, and the most magnificent pillow fort Keith has ever seen in his life; full of (ethically sourced, a note assures him) silk-clad downy pillows as well as cashmere blankets and fur throws.And amidst it all, an innocuous-looking letter with a fancy purple wax seal bearing the monogram PL, where from six sesquipedalian paragraphs in beautiful copperplate one may sum up the content as:Is the Red Paladin okay?? I miss him.





	With an Enemy Like This (Who Needs a Boyfriend?)

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't proofread this since it's already 50+ minutes past my usual bedtime and I wanted to publish on Keith's birthday.
> 
> Happy Birthday, Keith!!! I love you and wish you the best!!!
> 
> (The story is more focused on Lotor tho. I think so. I'm not sure. Please inform me of your opinion.)

“I’m just saying,” Lance begins, “Prince Lotor is _into_ you.”

“I hate to say this,” Shiro adds, “but Lance’s right. At the very least, Prince Lotor is... exhibiting some unnerving interest in you, Keith.”

_Exhibiting some unnerving interest_ is an understatement, in Keith’s opinion. Like, saying that a ghost pepper chilli is totally flavourless. Keith, despite his endless perseverance, unshakeable resolve, and denial of reality, can only gather the same conclusion as his two teammates at the sight before him.

The Castle of Lions where Team Voltron resides, led by Princess Allura of Altea and her loyal advisor Coran, is said to be impenetrable.

_Supposed_ to be impenetrable.

Yet two days without Keith appearing either as himself or the Red Paladin (having been wrestled into bed-rest by an unapologetically cheerful Coran after pulling off—for the nth time—an ill-advised and incredibly dangerous move that landed the Villain of the Week in jail and himself in the healing pod) sees the Castle penetrated anyway. Infiltrated. Invaded. Inundated with obviously super expensive and exotic bouquets, gourmet bouillon, high-end tisane, and the most magnificent pillow fort Keith has ever seen in his life; full of (ethically sourced, a note assures him) silk-clad downy pillows as well as cashmere blankets and fur throws.

And amidst it all, an innocuous- _looking_ letter with a fancy purple wax seal bearing the monogram PL, where from six sesquipedalian paragraphs in beautiful copperplate one may sum up the content as:

_Is the Red Paladin okay?? I miss him._

Keith exhales. Squashing the lone butterfly that dares flutter in his stomach with extreme prejudice, he grits out, “I am. Unfortunately. Very aware of that fact.”

Lance and Shiro shoot him a pitying look. Lance’s slightly mocking, in the by-deities-you-sure-do-vex-me-but-not-even-you-deserve-this way, Shiro’s meant and failing to conceal a full-blown fretting.

* * *

 

A bit of a back-story first.

Keith is the Red Paladin of Team Voltron, a group of superheroes sanctioned by Space Government. Lotor, otherwise known as Prince Lotor, is the actually disgraced and exiled son who is somehow still the heir of Emperor Zarkon, ci-devant ruler of the Galra Empire.

Zarkon led his army to invade Earth in order to ‘retrieve’ the Blue Lion of Voltron, but took a liking to Earth and decided to conquer the planet as well. Alas for Zarkon and his empire, five human youths managed to find the Blue Lion before him, and got themselves made into the new Paladins of Team Voltron by Princess Allura of Altea, daughter of King Alfor who created Voltron in the first place.

Long story short, the new Paladins took exception to Zarkon conquering their beloved home planet and metaphorically kicked him all the way to the astral plane.

Then came Prince Lotor, who became pro-tem Emperor until his father’s druids could figure out how to summon him back. He decided to test Team Voltron, not only in their powers together and apart, but also in their ~heroism level~, likely in order to undermine their deed in the future.

Keith passed the test when he not only saved Lotor’s general Acxa when she pretended to get blown off an exploded rooftop, but saved _Lotor himself_ when a miscalculation caused the latter to actually free-fall from the tallest tower in the city.

Earth’s peace was ruined when the Empire attacked. Keith’s peace was ruined when Lotor fell in love with him while he was cradling the prince in his arms.

Honestly, Keith wasn’t even aware he was rescuing _the_ Prince Lotor. The prince disguised himself as a civilian!

Too bad for Keith; Lotor loves as a Galra, instantly and eternally.

* * *

 

Lotor _has_ considered pursuing Keith as a helpless civilian dude-in-distress. However, after some soul-searching behind a waterfall and crying into a shaman’s arms—which felt substandard in comparison to Keith’s, by the way—Lotor decided that it would be 1.) too demeaning, 2.) too troublesome, and 3.) unfair to Keith, as Lotor would be constantly lying to him.

Ignore how Lotor lies every two other words. It’s a coping mechanism.

Having elected against pursuing Keith covertly, of course, Lotor had to pursue Keith openly.

But also still having had his responsibility as Emperor Pro Tem, _of course_ , Lotor had to combine work and pleasure by ~~proposing~~ ~~propositioning~~ courting Keith while doing his Vaguely Villainous agenda.

It started out so subtly, too, but like a great many things rapidly grew out of hand.

A warning card with hidden pep talk-esque encouragement.

A ransom note with polite yet sincere compliments in code (that no one but poor Hunk, who in a fit of curiosity and boredom tried to decipher, discovered.)

A threatening letter stabbed to a door with an ancient battle-axe said to be blessed by the Galra war deity, with another and much less threatening letter explaining how the battle-axe was intended as a gift.

It was to the point that on one occasion, when the stress and power finally got into Lotor’s head, he hypnotized an entire city to perform a _deity-damn musical comedy_ which centred on the Red Paladin being so beautiful and chivalrous, powerful and courageous it hurt.

“Keith,” Lotor smiles, “is like a cat, affectionate yet wary. One must subtly build up their advances so not to spook him.”

On a wall-sized screen, Keith stares up a 100-foot-tall statue of himself being cradled by Lotor before proceeding to set it on fire.

“Affirmative, Sir,” Acxa replies finally.

* * *

 

Lotor understands subtlety as long as it does _not_ concern Keith. He also understands keeping things quiet, again, as long as it does not concern Keith. He even understands the meaning of self-restraint, _as long as it does not concern Keith fucking Red Paladin Kogane_.

“Lotor, we talked about this. No kidnapping me to a villa in some Mediterranean island just because you _think_ I’m too stressed.”

“Your hands are still shaking, Keith,” Lotor gently reminds Keith. He eyes Keith’s hands, their shaking would be unnoticeable if they weren’t holding (genuine, antique) silverware that loudly drummed on the china plate.

“I’m cold,” Keith snaps.

“Your outfit is thermoregulated to suit you, Keith.”

Lotor’s sincere yet condescending look is answered by Keith’s own incredulous look. “Why the _fuck_ would you get me a thermoregulated,” glaring down his lap, “ _red wash-silk asymmetric ruffled wrap dress with a slit going up one knee_?”

Lotor blinks, then deliberately cocks his head to the side to convey his confusion. “Because you look even prettier in red and I want you to be comfortable while still looking pretty, of course. Why else?”

Keith shoots Lotor a deadpan look. He shoots his tomato, arugula and goat cheese frittata the same look. Then he picks his plate up and shovels the rest of the frittata down his throat. Washing it down with a glass of goat milk, he then sets the glass on the table firmly and shoots Lotor another deadpan look.

“It’s too early for this. I’m going back to bed.”

As Keith leaves the ornamental grape vine-covered pergola by white balustrade overlooking the sea, Lotor allows himself to smile in satisfaction, having succeeded in convincing Keith to take proper rest.

Now, if only he can figure out why Keith is vexed with the thermoregulated wrap dress...

* * *

 

“I don’t get it. I mean, it was _n’t_ all fine and good; it was horrible from the start. Especially after Shiro accidentally got transported to the astral plane with Zarkon and I had to take the lead until we could get him back. Then your son appeared and he was, like, I don’t know. Someone I would not mind as an archenemy? He was a manipulative son of a—a—my apologies.”

“Do not fret,” Honerva, the A.I. of Lotor’s mother and Zarkon’s wife (a proper wife of an intergalactic criminal emperor simply _must_ have an A.I. of herself just in case, after all), calmly assures Keith. “You were saying about Lotor being manipulative.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, he was a manipulative dildo, morally grey and all. But he wasn’t a _lovesick fool who abducted me just so he could make me take a vacation_.”

“Well,” Honerva replies, “if it makes you feel any better, your team cannot form Voltron without you there. That could count as my son’s—so to speak—villainous reason to kidnap you.”

“And what’s his reason for the dresses? And the jewels? And the decadent bubble bath and down-and-silk Alaskan King size bed and five-star meals?”

Honerva—honest to all deities that have yet to forsake Earth— _blushes_ at that.

“My Zarkon was the same when he was courting me,” she says, fondly staring at the ocean horizon. “Granted he was much less forceful; he was so charmingly awkward and bashful, so anxious to cater to my needs.”

Keith stares at the ocean horizon as well, but much less fondly. When Honerva begins on “Well, the bed part was quite bold on Lotor’s part, but I remember when-”, he hurries to interject.

“That’s nice. Very nice. How nice. _Please_ can we never speak of this again?”

* * *

 

Having witnessed the notes of encouragement turned compliments turned offers on friendly outing turned offers on blatant dating, as well as the various expensive yet surprisingly thoughtful courting gifts, not to mention the multiple encounters practically drenched in homoerotic UST, Team Voltron is understandably... unconcerned.

Well, they were alarmed at first. Wary and shocked. They feared for Keith’s pure soul. As Lotor again and again upped the ante, they grew horrified, for never in their life had they ever witnessed such a scale of Disaster Gayness™. Then they grew puzzled, because their Earth brains (excepting Allura and Coran’s Altean ones) could not believe that such a Disaster Gay™ as Lotor ever existed.

Nowadays, they’re mostly unconcerned, occasionally horrified, and slightly fascinated.

“I mean, I have multiple back-up plans if Lotor tries to go ‘I Have You Now My Pretty’, but now it’s... eh,” Pidge shrugs, and refrains from explaining that 80% of her plans will result in Lotor’s painful and prolonged demise.

“Mullet can strangle the prissy prince with his own hair if necessary. I have no fear,” Lance snorts.

“Well, _I_ still worry, because I’ve seen Keith charging at Zarkon despite knowing how outclassed he is. But I dunno, my gut feeling says it’d _probably_ be okay,” Hunk frowns.

“I dislike this. But I trust Keith will ask us for help if he needs it, and I have my own back-up plans just in case,” Shiro sighs, and refrains from explaining that 100% of said plans will result in Lotor’s painful and prolonged demise.

Allura begins, “While I do not endorse it myself, I feel obliged to mention that marriage between the spawns of two former enemies is historically often performed to solidify a ceasefire-”

“That’s nice. Very nice. How nice. _Please_ can we never speak of this again?”

* * *

 

A concept of his and Keith’s marriage reaches Lotor’s ears, through ~~gossips~~ his web of informants. He is charmed. Delighted. Excited™. Pure, wholesome Excitement™.

Lotor takes the last picture his servant drone has printed. It’s the last picture in his twenty-fourth set of wedding theme ideas. He has them all pinned on a wall-sized corkboard and connected together with colored yarns—after Keith’s own method when the Red Paladin is analyzing something. Lotor’s already lovelorn smile becomes even worse as he recalls the corkboard dedicated to deciphering _his_ intention and origin in Keith’s room.

Honerva smiles a pained little smile. Her arguably real self has grown corrupted and her husband has been forced to retire in the astral plane, and now her son is going to marry. She feels old.

“What do you think, Mother? I personally prefer the wisteria tunnel as the venue, but perhaps Keith would prefer the field of wild violets surrounded by a woodland... What would you like?”

As the pain in Honerva’s smile vanishes, the pain in Lotor’s—former—generals intensify.

“Please,” Ezor croaks out, her hands clinging to the glass of her cell. “ _Please_ , I beg you, just end us.”

Zethrid lets out a growl, ashamed of herself for pleading for mercy but also unable to bear more of... _that_. In the corner, Narti hugs her cat closer, more uncomfortable than ever.

“Prince Lotor,” Acxa remarks solemnly. “We acknowledge our mistake in attempting to stage a coup against you. We should never have interfered in your love-life. Please, just execute us.”

“Nonsense, Ezor, Acxa,” Lotor admonishes them, actually looking bewildered by their request. “Now come on, my mother and I need your honest opinion. Which shade for the tablecloth; mintcream or snow?”

Zethrid lets out a choked whimper. Narti hugs her cat even closer.

* * *

 

“We’re not getting married. This is my only concession: Take me out on one date, and we’ll see from there.”

Keith—having unexpectedly infiltrated Lotor’s HQ—crosses his arms and looks him in the eye. Lotor gapes while still managing to look unfairly attractive.

(He _is_ very unfairly attractive; with his long hair up in a man-bun and faded sweatpants riding low on his hips, Lotor looks like a casual chic model for a fashion magazine.)

“I wasn’t even expecting you to agree on a date,” he finally replies, goggle-eyed.

Keith scowls. “You courted me. You are _still_ courting me.”

“I did. I am,” Lotor agrees. “I still wasn’t expecting the courting to actually work.”

“What—why would you even court me, then?”

“I am capable of explaining my thought process,” an awkward beat. “Give me a few moments.”

Keith levels him a look, and begins tapping his feet in impatience as Lotor adopts a Byronic pose and pretends his brain is not malfunctioning.

“Well,” Lotor says at last, nervously clearing his throat. “I was expecting to prove my intention first—gain your and your comrades’ trust, things like that. I was expecting to save Earth before asking you out for real-”

“ _Save_ Earth?”

“Yes? Surely you realized my targets were all people who wanted minorities on Earth to suffer... Oh, you _did_ realize.”

“I _knew_ it,” Keith’s lovely eyes sparkle. “And they thought I was raving mad!”

“Sometimes in order to have change, one does require a Well-Intentioned Extremist,” Lotor smiles, suddenly bashful. “I’m glad you noticed my intention.”

“Oh, well,” Keith quirks a smirk, a small yet deadly thing that hits Lotor’s heart point-blank. “Don’t be mistaken, you’re still a very vexing, manipulative dildo. But you’re not _all_ that bad. A tad ‘charmingly awkward and bashful’, in fact.”

Like any ordinary lovelorn Gay™, Lotor has fantasized the perfect confession and marriage proposal for his not-at-all-a-secret crush. With him being a 9.5 out of 10 instead of his standard 12 out of 10 in appearance right now, and with his compulsively kept spotless lab currently in disorder, the situation is far from perfect.

But like a cliché, it all doesn’t matter. With utmost reverence, he grabs Keith’s right hand.

“Keith Kogane, Red Paladin of Voltron, will you go out with me to watch the Intergalactic Lightsaber Tournament this Saturday?”

If Keith has had any qualms about letting Lotor take him out for a date, this proposed date banishes them in one fell swoop. The enthusiasm is visible in his “Fuck yes!”

They go watch the tournament the very Saturday and eagerly participate in the spectator’s riot that inevitably follows, finishing the date with a late-night meal at the nearby space diner. The following week, Keith asks Lotor out on non-lethal, one-on-one paintball fight, which he instantly accepts. The week after that, a Robeast sent by Zarkon’s druids crashes their third date—shockingly happening at a library-cafe—and they end said date by teaming up to defeat the Robeast together.

Eventually, Keith and Lotor become a proper couple. Honerva approves. Team Voltron approves and refrains from explaining that they have more back-up plans with 200% chance of Lotor’s painful and prolonged demise. Lotor’s former generals successfully free themselves from their cell, celebrate it, accidentally marry each other, and somehow manage to happily live together as a band of warlords; none of them ever recover from their fear of wedding-planning, however.

Lotor eventually succeeds saving Earth and turns the Galra Empire into a Republic, as he has started planning after deciding to pursue Keith openly. Everything is fine with the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I didn't proofread this, so who knows what kind of monstrosity I have created here. Please don't be harsh; I am very sensitive. (Although also very eager to listen to feedback.)


End file.
